How to make love like the French, and add some va va voom back into your bedroom: Lessons in the art of seduction and why I’d NEVER prescribe a ‘date night’, by Parisian ‘sexologist’

I’m a French clinical sexologist who moved to the UK 30 years ago, so you can imagine the question I get asked the most over here. What do French women know about sex that British women don’t?

Usually my eager questioner is hoping I’ll reveal some national secret involving red lipstick, matching lingerie and creme patissiere.

But I’m afraid the answer is rather less glamorous.

French women lose desire too. French couples get bored and French parents are exhausted – and I can assure you that French men are not all extraordinary lovers either.

In fact, the latest national study of sexuality in France rather spoils the idea that it is a nation permanently having fabulous sex. The Contexte des Sexualités en France 2023 survey found that 77.2 per cent of French women aged 18-69 had been sexually active with a partner in the previous year, compared with 82.9 per cent in 2006 and 86.4 per cent in 1992.

This isn’t far off what Brits report – though it’s hard to compare exactly because we tend to ask our populations different questions.

What I do recognise, though, having grown up in France and spent most of my adult life in Britain, is a different cultural attitude to sensuality, seduction and pleasure.

There is no scientific evidence for a single ‘French approach’ to sex, but there are aspects of the French mindset that I think British couples could very usefully borrow.

They might not be having more sex than us any more, but I do believe that, in some ways, they’re having better sex; and more considered, thoughtful sex too.

So when I’m asked that first broad-brush question about the secrets of the French boudoir, I like to explore what it really means. And here’s what the French sexologist in me replies to each of the inevitable follow-ups…

How do work-stressed couples get in the mood?

Well, the first thing I would tell them is to stop waiting to be ‘in the mood’.

If you’ve spent every waking hour working, cooking, cleaning, answering emails and mentally fixing everyone else’s problems, it is hardly surprising if you don’t spontaneously think about sex when you finally get into bed. This is where understanding ‘responsive desire’ can be enormously reassuring.

In 2000, sex researcher Rosemary Basson proposed an influential model of female sexual response that challenged the idea that sexual desire must always come before we make the decision to have sex.

Her model recognised that, particularly in long-term relationships, desire may arrive in response only to arousal – a woman may begin from a place of sexual neutrality, experience pleasurable sexual stimulation, and then find that desire emerges in response.

This might seem like common sense to women, but you’d be amazed how rarely it occurs to most men.

What it means is that I’d never prescribe ‘date night followed by sex at 10pm’ to an exhausted couple. All that does is risk turning sex into another item on the to-do list.

Instead, create an opportunity for pleasure without deciding where it has to lead. Have a shower together; give each other a massage; get into bed naked and talk or kiss properly for ten minutes like you did when you first met.

Crucially, agree that either of you can stop there. When every cuddle or kiss feels as though it comes with an expectation of sex attached to it, even affection can start to feel like pressure.

Even better, start before you reach the bedroom. Send a flirtatious message in the afternoon, kiss in the kitchen, touch each other as you pass or put some music on while you’re cooking. It is extremely difficult to spend 14 hours being an employee, parent, cook, cleaner and logistical manager and then flick a switch at bedtime and become an erotic person. Instead of asking, ‘Do I feel sexy enough to have sex?’ try asking, ‘Would something pleasurable feel nice right now?’

What moves or positions can couples try to spice things up?

One of the simplest things I would suggest to a couple whose sex life has become predictable is to take penetration and orgasm off the agenda for one evening.

That might sound counterintuitive but it immediately removes two things we so often use to measure whether sex has been ‘successful’.

Set a timer for ten minutes and take turns touching one another. The person receiving doesn’t need to reciprocate or perform pleasure; their only job is to pay attention to sensation and communicate what feels good.

Explore parts of the body you might normally rush past – the neck, shoulders, back, scalp, stomach, thighs, arms or feet – and use simple instructions such as ‘slower’, ‘firmer’, ‘softer’, ‘stay there’ or ‘not there’. Then swap.

You could even agree that certain more conventionally sexy areas are off-limits, so neither person is wondering when the ‘real sex’ is going to begin.

This is inspired by Sensate Focus, the non-demand touching approach originally developed by sex researchers William Masters and Virginia Johnson and still used in sex therapy today. The idea is to shift attention away from sexual performance or trying to achieve a particular response and instead become curious about physical sensations in the moment.

Marie Morice says it’s a fallacy to think French women feel sexy all the time

Couples can easily fall into familiar sexual routines – we discover a sequence that ‘works’ and repeat it – but taking away the usual goal gives us an opportunity to pay attention to touch and sensation differently.

I would also encourage couples to stop treating intercourse as the main event.

Research highlighted by the Kinsey Institute shows just how important clitoral stimulation can be for female pleasure: in a study of more than 1,400 women, they reported reaching orgasm 51-60 per cent of the time when sex included additional clitoral stimulation, compared with just 21-30 per cent when it did not.

Rather than focusing on finding the ‘best’ sexual position, I would encourage couples to think much more about what kind of stimulation gives the woman pleasure – and to remember that the clitoris is central to that conversation.

How do French women make themselves feel sexy all the time?

The first thing I would say is that French women don’t feel sexy all the time. Nobody does!

And I would be very wary of giving women yet another standard they are supposed to live up to. You don’t need to walk around your kitchen in a frilly bra and red lipstick to be sexually confident.

That said, I do think there is a little truth hiding inside the French cliché, although perhaps not for the reason people imagine.

Growing up in France, sensuality wasn’t something I understood as existing exclusively within sex or for somebody else’s benefit. Pleasure could be food, perfume, clothes, music, conversation, dancing, a bath, sitting in the sunshine or the feeling of beautiful fabric against your skin.

If wearing beautiful underwear underneath completely ordinary work clothes makes you feel fabulous, absolutely do it – but do it for yourself.

If putting on lipstick or your favourite perfume when you’re home alone makes you feel good, wonderful. But your version of that feeling might equally be found in the act of sleeping naked, swimming, dancing around your bedroom, having a massage, or wearing clothes that make your body feel fantastic.

Sensuality is simply our capacity to experience pleasure through our senses. Feeling sexy is not the same thing as making yourself look sexually attractive to somebody else.

There has also been an extraordinary shift in French women’s relationship with their own sexuality. The latest French national sexuality survey found that 72.9 per cent of women aged 18-69 had masturbated at some point in their lives, compared with 56.5 per cent in 2006 and only 42.4 per cent in 1992.

That doesn’t prove French women are more sexually liberated than British women, but it does show how dramatically women’s sexual repertoires have changed within a generation, and/or how willing they are to admit it.

For me, sexual confidence isn’t about feeling sexy all the time or being permanently sexually available. It is having ownership of your own pleasure and knowing that your sexuality belongs to you.

What do French women ask their partners to do or not do?

I wouldn’t claim there is a particular instruction being whispered in bedrooms across France, but there is something I would like women everywhere to become much more comfortable doing: telling their partners what they actually want.

We still romanticise the idea that a good lover should somehow instinctively know what another person likes. They don’t.

Bodies are different, preferences are different, and what feels wonderful one day may not be what you want the next. So if something feels good, say so.

Of course it is equally important to be able to say ‘no’, ‘not tonight’, ‘I don’t like that’ or ‘I’d rather do this’.

Research into women’s preferences in terms of being touched reinforces just how individual pleasure is.

Studies have found there simply isn’t one technique that every woman enjoys, which is why communication is much more useful than expecting a partner to arrive with a repertoire of supposedly foolproof tricks.

That, to me, is sexual confidence. It isn’t performing pleasure convincingly or being spectacularly adventurous in bed. It is feeling able to participate in creating your own pleasure, communicating your boundaries and being curious about your partner’s pleasure too.

What can British men learn from French men about sex?

I hate to disappoint anyone, but France has its share of terrible lovers. But there is something useful in the rather old-fashioned French idea of ‘la seduction’. In other words, don’t stop courting somebody simply because you already have them.

In long-term relationships, we can become excellent domestic partners and very poor lovers. We discuss the children, bills, work, supermarket shopping, whose turn it is to cook and who is picking somebody up on Thursday. Then one person initiates sex at bedtime and wonders why the other hasn’t instantly transformed from co-parent into seductress.

Greater partner responsiveness is associated with greater sexual desire, writes Marie Morice

Seduction is really about attention. Compliment your partner when you’re not trying to get sex. Send the message at lunchtime. Listen when she tells you something. Look at her. Flirt with her. Kiss her without automatically turning that kiss into a request for intercourse. Don’t reserve affectionate touch exclusively for moments when you want sex.

There is evidence behind this kind of attentiveness. A 2016 series of three studies published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology examined what researchers call ‘perceived partner responsiveness’ – essentially feeling that your partner understands, values and responds to you.

Greater partner responsiveness was associated with greater sexual desire, and the association was stronger among women.

So perhaps British men don’t need to become more French. They need to remember to seduce the woman they already have. And, of course, women should do exactly the same.

Any other tips the French swear by?

My biggest one would be: don’t save your sexuality for the bedroom. This is perhaps the part of my French upbringing that has influenced me most.

If you tap into that sensuality that exists throughout ordinary life – in food, touch, perfume, music, clothes, conversation and taking time to enjoy something simply because it feels good – it’s much easier to connect with your erotic self.

Conversely, when pleasure disappears from the rest of our lives, it is rather optimistic to expect it to magically reappear the moment we climb into bed.

I would also introduce some novelty into the relationship, and it doesn’t have to be sexual.

Further research published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that couples who engaged in new, interesting or exciting activities together reported greater sexual desire, and that greater desire was associated with greater relationship and sexual satisfaction.

Go dancing, learn something together, take a train somewhere you’ve never been, cook something new or meet somewhere after work instead of automatically going home.

Sometimes one of the best things you can do for your sex life is not have sex, but create an opportunity to see your partner slightly differently again. Remove the sense of familiarity we can’t help but feel after years together and you might well ‘get’ why you fell for him in the first place.

Finally, stop counting how often you have sex. The French data is particularly interesting here because while partnered sexual activity has declined, sexual repertoires have become more diverse – witness that statistic about women’s increased willingness to self-pleasure. Frequency alone tells us very little about whether someone has a fulfilling sexual life.

There is no magic number of times per week that means a relationship is sexually healthy. I am much more interested in whether the sex you’re having is wanted, pleasurable and satisfying.

Perhaps that is ultimately the French lesson I would borrow. It isn’t ‘have more sex’, wear more lingerie or find yourself a Parisian lover. It is to give pleasure a little more space in ordinary life: pleasure in your body, your senses, food, touch, conversation, your relationship and yourself.

That, honestly, is the way to recapture the thrill of sexual pleasure in the bedroom – and to live well too.

thepleasureatelier.co.uk